


Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

by Lulu50000



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Boy-Who-Lived Neville, The Potters Live
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:30:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lulu50000/pseuds/Lulu50000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a world where Voldemort chose to go after Neville Longbottom instead of Harry Potter.  Harry's family is still alive, Sirius never went to Azkaban, Harry even has a little sister, Violet Potter.  But like with every choice, with the good, comes the bad.  Now Neville is the one with the scar, will he make the same choices as Harry did?  And where does Harry fit into the Wizarding World and Hogwarts now that he's just a normal boy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Off To Hogwarts: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter totally and completely belongs to J.K.Rowling
> 
> The chapters are really long so I'm going to post them in parts.

– CHAPTER ONE –

**_Off To Hogwarts_ **

Harry Potter was a very unusual boy in many ways.  One needed to simply look at his room to see how very different he was. In the corner of his room, in a large cage perched a brown tawny owl named Hootie, who was currently fast asleep.  On the floor right next to Harry’s bed stood a large wooden trunk, which lay open revealing a number of rather strange things: A pewter cauldron, black robes, a pair of gloves that at first glance appeared to be made of leather, but were really made from dragon hide, a black pointed hat and assorted spell books with names such as  _Magical Theory_  by Adalbert Waffling,  _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ by Miranda Goshawk,  _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore,  _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_  by Newt Scamander and  _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger among others.  On Harry’s bedside table lay a very crinkled letter, written in emerald-green ink on thick, yellowish parchment.  It read:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

  Clutched in Harry Potter’s hand as he slept, his glasses askew on his face, was a wand.  11 inches, Holly and Phoenix feather, ever since he had purchased it ten days ago it had become his most prized possession.

  One might wonder why a young, seemingly ordinary boy of eleven would have such a collection of strange objects in his bedroom, but to Harry Potter, these things were quite normal, that is, normal for a wizard.  Which is what Harry Potter was.  And he wasn’t the only one, nearly everyone in Harry’s family were witches and wizards.  Harry’s father; James Potter, Harry’s mother; Lily Potter and Harry’s little sister; Violet Potter could all do magic as well.

  In fact, the only people in Harry’s family who couldn’t do magic were Petunia Dursley, her husband Vernon and their son.  Petunia Dursley was Lily Potter’s older sister.  Harry’s Mother had come from a Muggle or non-magic family; she was the only one in her family who was gifted with the power of magic, which made Petunia very envious of Lily.  Since the two sisters got married and moved away from each other, they rarely saw one another.  Harry had only ever met his aunt, uncle and cousin once, when he was eight years old.

  His mother had thought that it would be nice if they showed up at the Dursley’s for Christmas and tried to rekindle a sibling bond over presents, carols and Christmas turkey.  Petunia had only just reluctantly let them inside when she saw that there was no other choice, but Harry had a feeling that she wouldn't have even done  _that_  if it weren't for the fact that her neighbours were all outside enjoying the snow.

  The Dursleys were all very snippy and rude, and their son Dudley, who was Harry’s age, was even more so.  Dudley Dursley was fat, blond, selfish and seemed to enjoy pushing Harry to the ground at every opportunity.  Dinner with the Dursleys was extremely awkward and silent, until Violet (who was six at the time) turned Dudley's nose into a pig’s snout when he stole her stuffing.  After reluctantly allowing Harry's Father to change the pudgy boy’s face back to its original state, the Dursleys screamed at the Potters to get out of the house and never come back or they would get a restraining order.  Harry had unsurprisingly never met his muggle relatives since, not that he’d want to...

  This year, Harry would be starting his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  He had been waiting for this all his life, when he had finally gotten his letter he had carried it around with him everywhere, reading and re-reading it constantly.  He had barely managed to get to sleep at all that night because of it, and because the next day would be September first. In just a few short hours, Harry Potter would be on the train to Hogwarts, the place that he had been dreaming about his whole life...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I'm going to continue with this story or not, so if you like it then please comment or give kudos so that I know. If people like it then I'll keep writing it :)


	2. Off to Hogwarts: part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Potter is not famous. He is a normal wizarding boy. Right now he's sleeping but as soon as he wakes up he will be well on his way to King's cross station and then off to Hogwarts :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter totally and completely belongs to J.K.Rowling. Not me.

*

  ‘Harry!’ Lily Potter’s voice called from the base of the staircase. ‘Harry, wake up!  We’ve got to get ready!  It's a long way to London!’ Harry’s eyes snapped open, he sat bolt upright, his heart beating like a drum.

  It was here!  It was finally here!  Today was the day he would go to Hogwarts!  Harry jumped out of bed, fixed his glasses which he had forgotten to take off before falling asleep.  He hurriedly pushed down everything in his large wooden trunk and closed it.  Then he ran to the mirror and examined himself.

  Before him, stood a very short and skinny boy with a thin face and knobbly knees.  No matter how much food his Mother tried to feed him, his body just didn't seem to want to grow.  Harry patted at his shirt to attempt to smooth the wrinkles caused by sleeping in his clothes overnight.  When he finally gave up on the shirt, he turned to his face; beneath his bright green eyes were dark circles from lack of sleep.  Nothing he could do about that...  Next he turned to his messy black hair.  He ran his fingers through it, trying to make it look even slightly decent, even though Harry knew it was an impossible task.  His hair was always messy and all over the place and going through it a few of times with his fingers wasn’t going to change that.

  Giving up on his appearance entirely, Harry turned away from the mirror and pulled on his runners.  Then he grabbed his severely over-read letter and his wand which lay on his bed, stuffed them into his pockets, grabbed Hootie’s cage, waking him with a start, and his trunk, then he began to make his way downstairs where his family stood, waiting.

  James Potter smiled at his son with his familiar crooked smile that Harry knew so well.  Harry’s father looked like a much older version of himself.  They had the same black messy hair, the same thin face, they both wore glasses, and everything about them was exactly the same.  Except for their eyes, while Harry’s were green, James’ were Hazel.

  Next, Harry turned to his mother.  She was looking very impatiently at him with her bright green eyes, exactly the same as Harry’s, same colour and same shape.  However, if it weren't for their eyes it would be nearly impossible to tell that the two were related at all.  Hid mother’s hair was long, neatly brushed and a fiery shade of red.  Her figure was very slim, though not nearly as slim as it was in the pictures of her from before Violet was born.  Not that he'd ever even think of saying that.  He valued his life too much.

  Then, Harry turned to his nine-year old sister Violet.  She was the complete opposite of Harry.  While Harry looked like his father with his mother’s eyes, Violet looked like Lily and had Jame’s hazel eyes.  Violet was also quite brilliant, just like Lily had been at her age, she was able to consciously use magic without a wand, though to no great extent, but it was something that Harry had never managed to accomplish.  All of his magic had always been accidental.  His feeble attempts always led to much teasing from Violet.  Harry loved his little sister as much as any other older brother, but she wasn't his most favourite person in the world.  When Harry had said this to his mother once, she had told him that Violet was much like James when he was younger in that way and that she would grow out of it eventually, just like their father had.

  ‘Finally!’ said Harry’s mother in an exasperated voice. ‘You’re the one who’s supposed to be going to Hogwarts and you’re the last one ready!’

  ‘Sorry Mum!’ Harry said.

  ‘Come on Lily, he’s ready now isn't he?  So let’s just go.’ reasoned Harry’s father.

  ‘...Alright.’ said Harry’s mother with a sigh. ‘Everybody to the car.’ Harry’s father groaned.  He hated cars. He always said they were too slow.  When they had been driving for only ten minutes James gave a loud groan and said,

  ‘I don’t understand why we have to drive this painfully slow muggle contraption!  Broomsticks are so much faster–’

  ‘–And much less indiscreet.’ Lily interrupted. ‘How would we look flying through the air to King’s Cross station?  Besides,’ said Lily in a suddenly hushed voice, ‘you know that Violet hates flying.’ James sighed and said,

  ‘I know.  It's just... me, Remus and Sirius made a bet about who would get to the station first and at the rate this piece of scrap metal's going, I'm going to lose!’ Harry smirked at his Father's stupidity and lack of planning or thinking ahead.  It was a trait that they shared.

  Remus and Sirius had been James’s friends since their first year at Hogwarts together.  Harry hoped that when he got to Hogwarts that he too would make such good friends as Remus and Sirius were to his Father.  Sirius Black was Harry’s Godfather.  He was a tall, good-looking man with long dark hair that fell elegantly at his shoulders, a feat which neither Harry nor James could pull off with their un-comb-able hair.  Remus, on the other hand, was a rather shabby looking man who often wore very old, tatty cloaks.  His light brown hair, which was flecked with bits of grey, made him look older than he really was.  Remus always looked tired and a bit ill.  Most believed that he was just sick all the time, but those who were closest to him knew the truth.  Remus Lupin, was a werewolf.

  It wasn't his fault though, he didn't ask to be bitten when he was a very young boy, and he didn't choose to turn into a monster once a month under the full moon.  Even still, many wizards are very prejudiced against werewolves.  Harry really didn’t see why, werewolves are just normal people except for one night a month.  James and Sirius had thought the same things when they found out that their friend was a werewolf.

  They had even become animagi so that they could be with him when he was a wolf.  Animagi were witches and wizards who can turn themselves in an animal at will.  Harry’s Dad was a stag and Sirius was a great black dog.  Normally when a witch or wizard becomes an animagus they have to register at the Ministry of Magic, but they didn't and were animagi illegally so that they could be with Remus.  They were registered now of course, though.  Harry’s Mother had insisted they register once the Ministry rightened itself again after the fall of a powerful Dark Wizard called Lord Voldemort, though most wished to call him ‘You-Know-Who’ or ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’. Harry had never really seen what was so horrible about just saying his name, his parents and Remus and Sirius said the name.  They had also encouraged that Harry and Violet say it too, saying that fearing his name would just increase fear for the man himself.  Despite this, many still feared to speak his name despite the fact that he was defeated many years ago, when Harry was only a year old.

  The story of Voldemort's defeat was famous.  Ten years ago, Voldemort decided to go after the Longbottoms.  Frank and Alice Longbottom died fighting him, but when he turned his wand on their son, one year old Neville Longbottom, for some strange reason, the spell didn’t work and instead, Voldemort was destroyed, leaving Neville with nothing more than a lightning shaped scar on his forehead.  Ever since then, Neville has been famous.  He was widely known as ‘Neville Longbottom, The Boy Who Lived’.

  Neville was going to be starting Hogwarts this year alongside Harry. Maybe he could become friends with Neville Longbottom!  But probably not, after all Neville was  _famous_ and he Harry, was nothing special.  He wasn’t–

  ‘We’re here!’ Harry's thoughts were interrupted by his mother.  Harry looked out of the window and indeed, they were at King's Cross station.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment or give kudos if you like it :)


	3. Off to Hogwarts: part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter totally and completely belongs to J.K.Rowling

The four Potters got out of the car and began to make their way towards Platforms 9 and 10.  The train that Harry needed to catch led straight to Hogwarts, so it had to be inaccessible to muggles, lest they discover that witches and wizards existed.  So, the Hogwarts Express was on platform 9 3/4.  A platform only able to be reached by walking through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10.

  When the Potters reached the barrier, Harry’s mother whispered in his ear,

  ‘Don’t worry Harry, it’s really simple. Just run straight at the wall and you’ll be on the platform.  As soon as you're in, I, your father and Violet will join you.’ Harry nodded to show that he understood.  He grasped the trolley that now held his trunk and Hootie’s cage firmly, and then he pushed it forwards.  Faster and faster he ran; he couldn't stop now even if he wanted to.  Harry closed his eyes as his body passed through the barrier.  When he opened them, he was looking at a huge scarlet steam engine, puffing smoke over a platform packed with witches and wizards seeing their children onto the train. Harry stared at the train in awe; this was the train that would take him to Hogwarts. In just a few short hours, he would be there.

  Harry turned to look behind him as his mother, and then his father and sister passed through the barrier to meet him.  The moment his father had walked onto the platform there came a very familiar voice from behind them.

  ‘You lose, James!’ Harry turned back around, it was Sirius. He had a smile of triumph upon his handsome face.

  ‘Not necessarily, where's Remus?’ Harry’s father said with a crooked smile.

  ‘Over here, James!’ called the voice of Remus Lupin from within the crowd of parents and children.  He ran over to them and said, ‘You lose James.  Pay up.’ Harry's father swore loudly as he pulled out nearly a dozen golden coins from his pocket, which were called gold Galleons.  Wizarding money was made up of three different coins; gold Galleons, silver Sickles and bronze Knuts.  There were seventeen Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle.  Harry’s father gave five Galleons to Remus and five to Sirius.

  ‘You bet  _ten_ Galleons on who would get to the station first!?’ Harry’s mother exclaimed.

  ‘Yep.’ said Sirius pocketing the coins. ‘And now he's lost ten Galleons.’ Harry’s mother looked as though she was going to start yelling again, but Remus interrupted before she could.

  ‘Perhaps you and James could continue this at home, Lily. Right now, we're supposed to be seeing Harry off on his first trip to Hogwarts. It’s ten-to now and the train's leaving at eleven.’ she sighed as a tall red-headed boy with glasses and many freckles passed through the barrier, he looked no older than fifteen.

  ‘You're right Remus.’ she said, ‘I’ll deal with  _you_ later!’ she said pointedly to her husband, eyeing him viciously as another very freckly, red-haired boy came through the barrier, this one was younger than the last, no older than thirteen, perhaps.

  ‘Thank you!’ Harry’s father mouthed to Remus as a third red-headed boy, identical to the one previous down to the last freckle, came through the barrier.  Then as Harry’s parents, Violet, Remus and Sirius began walking towards the train Harry quickly turned around to follow them, but not before he saw a fourth freckly, red-haired boy come through the barrier.  This boy looked to be about Harry’s age.

  Harry continued to follow the others onto the Hogwarts express and then through the train.  It seemed as though all the compartments were already full.  Finally, the group reached an empty compartment that was near the end of the train.  Sirius and Remus helped Harry with Hootie and his trunk.  Then, they all turned to him and one by one they each wished him luck.

  ‘Good luck Harry.’ said Remus solemnly.                                                

  ‘Good luck Harry,’ said his mother. ‘And say “hi” to Severus for me, will you?’ Sirius snorted.

  ‘Lily, he hates the boy!’

  ‘He doesn’t hate him!’ she rebuked, "He just –’

  ‘Hates that he looks like James.’ said Sirius. ‘Harry can’t just go and say “hi” to Snape! He  _hates_  him!’

  ‘No he doesn't!’ Harry’s mother protested, but Harry had to agree with Sirius.  Severus Snape _did_ hate him.  Harry had known Snape all of his life and he had never once said a single kind word to him.  When Harry's parents had been in school, both his father and Snape loved his mother.  This had made his father and Snape mortal enemies.  Unfortunately for Snape, he had been on the losing end of their little love triangle and his mother chose his father.  Snape and his mother were still friends though; she had even made Snape Violet's Godfather.  Snape was very fond of Violet, Harry was sure that it was because she looked like their mother, but Snape hated Harry, he could see it in his eyes.  All because Harry looked like his father, the man who had won the heart of the girl he loved.  Harry would almost feel bad for Snape, but Snape hated him and didn't seem to care about  _his_  feelings, so likewise Harry thought that it was only fair that he wouldn’t care about Snape’s feelings either.  Snape also just happened to work at Hogwarts, he was the Potions Master.

  ‘He _doesn’t_ hate him!’ his mother said in a tone that meant that was final.

  ‘Alright, if you say so Lily...’ said Sirius in a voice that showed that he didn't believe her one bit. ‘Anyway, good luck Harry. I'm sure you'll be brilliant. Just like your parents were.’ Harry smiled.

  ‘Thanks Sirius.’ he said.

  ‘Mummy!’ screamed the annoying voice of Violet. ‘Why can’t I go to Hogwarts this year too?  I’m already way better at magic than Harry is!  Can’t I go?’

  ‘No,’ said their mother. ‘You’re still too young and it’s not nice to speak to your brother like that, young lady. Just for that, you will de-gnome the garden when we get home.’ Violet groaned and said something under her breath that Harry couldn’t hear, but his mother did and she grabbed her wrist, leading her off the train whilst scolding her for whatever she had said.  Then his father turned to Remus and Sirius and said,

  ‘You go on ahead. I’ve got something I want to talk to Harry about.’ Sirius and Remus both nodded and started walking away.  When they were out of sight, Harry’s father turned to him and said,

  ‘Now Harry, I need you to swear to me that you won't tell your mother.’

  ‘Tell her what?’ Harry questioned.

  ‘Just swear it, and then I’ll tell you.’ said his father vaguely.

  ‘Okay, I swear.’ said Harry, curiosity bubbling inside of him.

  ‘Good.’ said James. ‘Now Harry, I want to give you this.’ Then James pulled from his pocket a long, shining, silvery cloth, the appearance of it seemed almost fluid somehow. ‘This,’ James continued in a hushed sort of voice, ‘Is my own invisibility cloak.  My Father gave it to me just before I started Hogwarts and I think that now is the time that I pass it on to you.  I would have given it to you sooner but your mother would never allow you to have it."

  ‘You... You’re giving this to me?’ Harry asked his father disbelievingly, as he reached out to touch the strange silvery cloth.  It felt strange, almost like water woven into material.

  ‘Yes.’ said Harry's Father with his familiar crooked smile. ‘It's yours.  Now don't tell your mother I said this, but I expect you to use it. Explore the castle and discover all of its secrets.  I would give you the Marauder’s Map as well, but Filch confiscated that long ago.’ Harry’s father had told him about the Marauder’s Map before.  It was a magical map of Hogwarts that he, Sirius and Remus had made when they were in school, which contained all its secret entrances and passageways. It also showed where everyone in the castle was at any given time.  Filch was the old caretaker at the school, according to Harry’s father he hated the students. ‘But maybe it’s better this way.’ said James. ‘You’ll be able to find everything on your own, maybe even make your own map.  You might even discover more about that school than we did.  Good luck Harry.  And remember, keep this between us.’

  ‘I know.  I will.’ said Harry. ‘Thanks Dad.’ then, James put the cloak on Harry's lap turned around and walked away, leaving Harry alone.  Harry quickly stuffed the cloak into his trunk; he would test it out at Hogwarts.  He didn’t want anyone to see it.  He was pretty sure that invisibility cloaks were against school rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment or give kudos if you like it :)


	4. Off to Hogwarts: part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter totally and completely belongs to J.K.Rowling

  Suddenly, Harry’s attention was caught by a commotion outside of the train.  The fourth and youngest red-haired boy who Harry had seen just minutes before was struggling against a plump, red-haired woman who, Harry assumed, was his Mother.  It seemed like she was trying to clean something off of his face as the twin red heads and a little redheaded girl watched.  The boy finally managed to wriggle away from her when one of the red-haired twins said,

  ‘Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?’

  ‘Shut up,’ said the red-haired boy, who Harry assumed was named Ron.

  ‘Where’s Percy?’ said their Mother.

  ‘He’s coming now.’ said one of the twins as the oldest red-head who wore glasses came striding into view.  He had on his black Hogwarts robes already and Harry wondered if perhaps he should change too.  Then Harry noticed that the boy called Percy was wearing a shiny red and gold badge with the letter  _P_  on it.  A Gryffindor Prefect’s badge, Remus had one just like it from when he was in school.

  ‘Can’t stay long, Mother,’ said Percy the Prefect in a dignified voice. ‘I’m up front, the Prefects have got two compartments to themselves –’

‘Oh, are you a  _Prefect_ , Percy?’ one of the twins interrupted with mock surprise. ‘You should have said something, we had no idea.’

  ‘Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it,’ said the other twin. ‘Once –’

  ‘Or twice –’

  ‘A minute –’

  ‘All summer –’

  ‘Oh, shut up,’ said Percy as Harry laughed.  Those red-headed twins reminded Harry of his father and Sirius.

  ‘How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?’ said one of the twins.

  ‘Because he's a  _prefect_ ,’ said their mother fondly. ‘All right, dear, well, have a good term – send me an owl when you get there.’ Then she kissed Percy's cheek and he left. She then turned to the twins.

  ‘Now, you two – this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you’ve – you’ve blown up a toilet or –’

  ‘Blown up a toilet?’ interrupted one of the twins. ‘We’ve never blown up a toilet.’

  ‘Great idea though, thanks, Mum.’ said the other.

  ‘It’s  _not funny_.’ said their Mother while Harry laughed and made a mental note to ask his father if he'd ever blown up a toilet. ‘And look after Ron.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said one of the twins. ‘Ickle Ronniekins is safe with us.’

‘Shut up.’ said Ron again. He was nearly as tall as the twins, Harry noticed and his nose was pink from where his Mother had rubbed it.

  ‘Well the three of you should best be getting on the train now, it should be leaving shortly.’ she was right; no sooner had the boys gotten on the train that a whistle sounded. They leant out of the window for her to kiss them goodbye and the little redheaded girl, who Harry assumed was their sister, began to cry.

  ‘Don’t, Ginny,’ said one of the twins. ‘We’ll send you loads of owls.’

  ‘We’ll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat.’

  ‘ _George!_ ’

  ‘Only joking, Mum.’

  Then the train began to move.  Harry saw the boys’ mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train.  Harry suddenly spotted his parents, sister, Sirius and Remus all waving at him from right in front of the barrier.  Harry smiled and waved back as the train gathered speed.  Harry watched his family; Sirius, Remus, the little redheaded girl and her mother all disappear as the train rounded a corner.  Houses flashed past the window and Harry felt a great leap of excitement.  It was finally happening!  What he had waited for his whole life! He, Harry Potter was going to Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been getting a lot of kudos for this story lately so I figure I should put up the last part of chapter 1. I actually have 5 chapters of this story right now and all four of the other chapters are much longer than this one. So if people continue to give kudos and maybe even comment then I might continue to post it. Thank you for your support :)


	5. Neville Longbottom: part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter totally and completely belongs to J.K.Rowling

–CHAPTER TWO–

**_Neville Longbottom_ **

The compartment door suddenly slid open and Ron, the youngest redheaded boy, came in.

  ‘Anyone sitting there?’ He asked pointing at the seat opposite Harry. ‘Everywhere else is full.’ Harry shook his head and the boy sat down.  He glanced at Harry and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn’t looked.  He could see that he still had a black mark on his nose.  Harry felt kind of awkward and a bit guilty because he had eavesdropped on him and his family.  Harry knew his name, but Ron didn't know anything about him.  Harry was just opening his mouth to introduce himself when the door slid open once more.  It was the twins.

  ‘Hey, Ron.’ said one of the twins.

  ‘Listen, we're going down the middle of the train – Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there.’

  ‘Right,’ mumbled Ron.

  ‘Who’s your friend?’ one of the twins asked.

  ‘Oh.’ said Ron. ‘He’s not really my – well we just met and I –’

  ‘Fred Weasley.’ said Fred Weasley. ‘This is George.  And that little bundle of joy over there is our brother Ron.’ Harry smiled, now he felt a little less awkward now that they knew that he knew their names.

  ‘I'm Harry.’ he said. ‘Harry Potter.’

  ‘Nice to meet you Harry.’ said Fred.

  ‘And we’d love to stay and chat but we’ve gotta go.’ said George.

  ‘Bye.’ the twins said together.

  ‘So...’ said Ron, trying to make conversation once the twins had left. ‘Who’re your parents?’

  ‘James and Lily Potter.’ Harry answered. Ron’s eyes widened a bit.

  ‘Your Dad’s James Potter?’ he said incredulously.

  ‘Yeah.’ said Harry.

  ‘He’s that really famous Auror who put a whole bunch of You-Know-Who’s followers in Azkaban after he was defeated!  You’re his son?’

  ‘Yeah.’ said Harry, he hadn't realized that his Father was so famous.

  ‘And your Mum’s Lily Potter?’ Ron asked.

  ‘Yeah.’ said Harry, feeling that he sounded a bit repetitious; maybe he should ask Ron something.

  ‘She’s said to be one of St. Mungo’s best healers!’

  ‘What about your parents?’ Harry asked. ‘What do they do?’

  ‘Well ... My Dad works at the Ministry of Magic.  In the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office.  He loves muggles.  Thinks they're fascinating.  As for my Mum, well raising seven kids is a job in itself really.  Even though she doesn't get paid for it –’

  ‘Wait, you have six siblings?’

  ‘Yeah.’ said Ron. ‘One younger sister and Five older brothers.’

  ‘Wow.’ said Harry ‘And I thought  _one_  was bad enough.’

  ‘Heh, yeah.’ said Ron ‘I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts.  You could say I've got a lot to live up to.  Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch.  Now Percy’s a Prefect.  Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny.  Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first.  You never get anything new, either, with five brothers.  I’ve got Bill's old robes, Charlie’s old wand and Percy’s old rat.’ Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat grey rat, which was asleep. ‘His name’s Scabbers and he’s useless, he hardly ever wakes up.  Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a Prefect, but they couldn't aff\- I mean, I got Scabbers instead.’ Ron’s ears went pink.  He seemed to think that he’d said too much, because he went back to staring at the window.

  Harry racked his brain for something else to say to start-up another conversation.  He enjoyed talking to Ron, and it seemed as though he would be Harry's first friend at Hogwarts.

  ‘Any idea what house you’ll be in?’ Harry asked after a long pause.

  ‘Gryffindor.’ said Ron immediately. ‘Or... At least I hope I will.  My whole family’s in Gryffindor and there’s really no other house that I want to be in...’ At Hogwarts, the students were split into four houses.  Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin.  The students were sorted by traits that they had.  The trait of Gryffindor was impulsive bravery, Ravenclaw was curious intelligence, Hufflepuff was hardworking loyalty and Slytherin was self-serving determination.

  ‘I hope I’m in Gryffindor too.’ said Harry. ‘My parents were both in it and I wouldn’t fancy being Hufflepuff or Slytherin, and there’s no way I'm smart enough to be a Ravenclaw.’

  ‘Yeah.’ said Ron. ‘Me too.  My Dad would freak if I were put in Slytherin.  That’s the house You-Know-Who was in!’

  ‘I know that.’ said Harry, ‘But that doesn’t mean that all Slytherins are bad.’ Ron looked at him incredulously.

  ‘Oh yeah?’ said Ron, ‘Tell me of one nice Slytherin you’ve met.’

  ‘Well,’ said Harry, ‘My Mum is friends with a Slytherin.  Has been ever since she was little.  Mind you, he hates me, so I guess he's never been nice to  _me_.  But he’s nice to my Mum and sister.’ Harry didn’t know why he was defending Snape and Slytherins.  According to what his father and Sirius had told him, they were all no good.  However, his mother had taught him to really get to know someone before you judge them in any way, get to know not only what they act like around others, but also who they really were beneath that.  She had always told him that to have the right to judge  someone, you have to know their deepest inner thoughts of why they do the things they do.  Then, feel free to judge.  And besides, Snape couldn’t be all bad if his mother had been friends with him for so long.

  ‘Exactly.’ said Ron smugly. ‘Slytherins are all bad news if you ask me.’

  ‘Alright.’ said Harry, not wanting to start an argument with the first friend he'd made at Hogwarts.  ‘So, what do your other brothers do now that they’re out of Hogwarts?’

  ‘Charlie’s in Romania studying dragons and Bill’s in Africa doing something for Gringotts Wizarding Bank,’ said Ron. ‘Did you hear about Gringotts?  It’s been all over the  _Daily Prophet_ , someone tried to rob a high-security vault!’

  ‘I know.’ said Harry. ‘It happened on my birthday.’

  ‘Really?’ said Ron.

  ‘Yeah.’ said Harry.

  ‘My dad says it must’ve been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts.’ said Ron.

  ‘Yeah.’ said Harry. ‘My dad said that too, he said that he reckons it might be some of Voldemort’s –’

  Ron gasped.

  ‘Oh, sorry.’ said Harry. ‘I forget sometimes that most people don't like to hear his name.  My parents use it all the time.  Anyway, my dad reckons that it might be some of  _You-Know-Who’s_  old supporters.’

  ‘Really?’ said Ron. ‘Cuz I heard that they didn't actually steal anything.’

  ‘Maybe someone found out what they were going to do and moved it.’ said Harry.

* * *

 

I tried to attach a picture to this but it wouldn't work because I don't know how to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The posting of this chapter was completely because of MagicS, who commented on it and showed real interest in it. Thank you very much :)


	6. Neville Longbottom: part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter totally and completely belongs to J.K.Rowling

  ‘Maybe someone found out what they were going to do and moved it.’ said Harry.

  ‘Maybe...’ said Ron, but Harry could tell that he wasn’t that interested in the subject anymore. ‘What’s your Quidditch team?’ Ron asked suddenly.  Quidditch was a wizarding sport played on broomsticks, up in the air.  Each team had seven players: Three Chasers, who passed around a large red ball, called a Quaffle and tried to score it through three giant hoops on the other team’s side of the pitch.  Each goal into these hoops is worth ten points.  The Keeper, defends these hoops from being scored on.  Then there are Beaters, in Quidditch there are two identical black balls called Bludgers, slightly smaller than the Quaffle that zoomed through the air trying to knock the players off their brooms, the two Beaters on each team carry bats to protect their team from the Bludgers and to hit them at the other team.  Lastly, there was the Seeker, it was the Seeker’s job to look for the Golden Snitch; a tiny golden ball with wings that flew very fast around the pitch and was quite difficult to see, and they had to catch it.  The capture of the Golden Snitch, ended the game and gave that team 150 points, which usually led to that team winning the game.

  ‘Puddlemere United.’ answered Harry.

  ‘Oh, mine’s the Chudley Cannons.’ said Ron.  Harry snorted; the Chudley Canons were the worst team in the league.  Ron looked very cross at this and he stood up to say something, but then the two boys heard a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling dimpled woman slid back their door and said,

  ‘Anything off the trolley, dears?’ Ron sat back down and Harry suddenly realized how starving he was.  He hadn’t eaten breakfast because he had woken up late.  He leapt to his feet, but Ron’s ears went pink again and he muttered that he’d brought some sandwiches.  Harry felt bad for Ron.  He didn’t know what it was like to be poor, but it couldn’t be very nice, so he decided to get something for Ron as well, but he didn’t know what Ron liked, and Harry had a feeling that if he asked, Ron would tell him not to get him anything.  So, Harry just got some of everything and paid the woman eleven silver sickles and seven bronze knuts.

Ron stared as Harry brought it all back into the compartment.

  ‘Hungry are you?’ he said.

  ‘Starving.’ said Harry as he bit into a pumpkin pasty. ‘Here, take one.’

  ‘No,’ said Ron, eyeing the pasty in Harry's hand enviously. ‘No, I couldn't...’

  ‘Go on!’ said Harry ‘There’s plenty here!’ Ron smiled and threw his sandwiches to a corner as he and Harry ate their way through all of Harry’s sweets.  When Harry opened up a chocolate frog (A magical chocolate that both looked and acted like a frog which comes with a collectible card of a famous witch or wizard), Ron asked him,

  ‘What card did you get?’

  ‘Dumbledore.’ said Harry looking at the Headmaster’s picture on the card.  He wore half-moon glasses that rested on a long crooked nose in front of piercingly blue eyes that seemed to twinkle slightly and he had flowing silver hair, beard and moustache that were long enough to tuck into his belt.

  ‘Do you have him yet?’ Ron asked.

  ‘No.’ said Harry.

  ‘Could you pass me one?  The only ones I’m missing are Agrippa and Ptolemy.’ Harry passed Ron a chocolate frog and then turned the picture of Dumbledore over to read his description.

_Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts.  Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindlewald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood and his work on alchemy with his partner Nicolas Flamel.  Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling._

  Harry then turned the card over and saw that Dumbledore was gone.  It wasn’t at all surprising though, all Wizarding photographs moved.

  ‘No, I’ve got Morgana again,’ said Ron ‘and I’ve already got about six of her ... do you want it?’

  ‘No thanks.’ said Harry ‘I’ve already got a couple of her too.’

  The two continued eating undisturbed for a while longer.  The countryside now flying past the window had started becoming gradually wilder.  There were woods, twisting rivers and dark green hills.  Suddenly, there was a knock on the door of their compartment and a round-faced boy with blue eyes and neat black hair came in.  He looked tearful.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said ‘but have you seen a toad at all?’ when they shook their heads the boy wailed ‘I’ve lost him!  He keeps getting away from me!’

  ‘He’ll turn up.’ said Harry.

  ‘Yes,’ said the boy miserably. ‘Well, if you see him...’

  ‘Hold on a second!’ Ron shouted suddenly as the boy was turning to leave. ‘What’s that on your head?’ The round-faced boy quickly patted down his hair over his forehead, but not before Harry saw it: A thin, lightning shaped scar.

  ‘Are you Neville Longbottom?’ Ron blurted out.  

The round-faced boy nodded uncomfortably.

   ‘Can you remember anything from when –’

  ‘No.’ said Neville and Harry could tell that Neville didn't like the attention.

  ‘Not any –’

  ‘Ron!’ Harry interrupted. ‘Maybe instead of bombarding him with questions, we should introduce ourselves.  I’m Harry Potter.’

  ‘Ron Weasley.’ said Ron.  Neville looked gratefully at Harry.

  ‘Would you like to sit down, Neville?’ Harry asked.

  ‘I-I would, but I’m still looking for my toad, see...’

  ‘We could help you!’ said Ron, but Harry could tell that Ron didn't really care about Neville's toad; he just wanted an excuse to ask him more questions.

  ‘Really?  Thanks!’ said Neville gratefully, clearly unaware of Ron's true intentions.  The three boys walked out of the compartment and started looking for Neville's toad.

  ‘Hermione!’ Neville called to a girl a few compartments ahead of them. ‘I got more people to help us look!’

  ‘That’s good.’ said the girl called Hermione.  Walking towards them, Harry saw that she had lots of bushy brown hair, brown eyes and rather large front teeth.  She was already wearing her Hogwarts robes, once again Harry wondered if he should put his on. ‘I’m Hermione Granger.’ said the bushy haired girl in a rather bossy voice.

  ‘Ron Weasley.’ said Ron.

  ‘I’m Harry Potter.’ said Harry.

  ‘Pleasure.’ she said. ‘If you’re going to be helping us look, then get on with it.’ then she went back to her looking.  The four of them searched for Neville’s toad for what felt like hours, Ron sticking very close to Neville at all times so that he could ask him more questions about Voldemort and the night his parents died.  Harry thought that this was quite rude as it was clear that Neville did not want to talk about it.  So Harry stayed very near to Neville and Ron so that he could drive the conversation a different way every time Ron brought it up.  However, their search was interrupted by three very nasty looking boys.  The boy in the middle had a pale, pointed face that wore a sneer and had slick blond hair.  While the other two were both thick-set and very mean looking, standing on either side of the smaller blond boy, they looked almost like bodyguards.

  ‘Is it true?’ said the blond boy with a bored, drawling voice. ‘They’re saying all down the train that Neville Longbottom is looking for a toad he lost.’ Then he spotted Neville. ‘So it’s you, is it?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so very, very much for your comments and kudos :) I really liked writing this story and I'm glad that some people actually enjoy reading it now. I know that it's not the most interesting or original but your support means a lot to me so thank you very much :)


	7. Neville Longbottom: part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter totally and completely belongs to J.K.Rowling

  ‘Is it true?’ said the blond boy with a bored, drawling voice. ‘They’re saying all down the train that Neville Longbottom is looking for a toad he lost.’ Then he spotted Neville. ‘So it’s you, is it?’ Neville nodded, eyeing the other boys fearfully.

  ‘Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle,’ said the pale boy, noticing where Neville was looking. ‘And my name’s Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.’ Harry recognized those names.  Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy, Harry’s father had told him about them.  These boy’s fathers were convicted of being Voldemort’s supporters, but they got off.  Though his father was still convinced that they belonged in Azkaban.

  Ron gave a slight cough, which might have hidden a snigger.  Draco Malfoy looked at him.

  ‘Think my name’s funny, do you?  No need to ask who you are.  My Father told me that all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford." Ron looked like he was ready to punch Draco Malfoy right in the face, but Harry stepped in front of him before he could and said to Draco Malfoy.

  ‘What makes you think you can say that?’

  ‘What’s your name?’ said Malfoy, completely ignoring Harry’s question.

  ‘Harry Potter, now answer my question.’

  ‘Potter ...’ said the pale boy maliciously. ‘Your Father would be James Potter then, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘Yes.’ said Harry ‘Now answer the question. What makes you think that you can just talk to people like that?" Malfoy ignored his words again and said.

  ‘He’s that famous Auror who married a filthy muggleborn.  Quite a disgrace, really.’ Harry felt a flare of anger rise up inside of him.

  ‘And what's wrong with being muggleborn?’ said a voice from behind Harry, before he could say anything.  It was Hermione; he had not realized that she had been standing there.

  ‘What’s wrong with being muggleborn?’ asked Malfoy, exasperatedly. ‘How about everything? They weren’t brought up knowing our ways; they don't know how this world works.  Their blood is tainted with Muggle filth and most of them had never even heard of Hogwarts before they got their letter.  Magic should be kept within all Wizarding families.  Why do you care anyway?  Are you muggleborn?’

  ‘Yes I am.’ said Hermione indignantly.  Malfoy sneered and said.

  ‘It’s disgusting that they let  _your_  kind in here!’ Hermione turned and started running down the train, but not before Harry saw tears glistening in her eyes. Then Malfoy turned back to Neville and said.

  ‘You’ll soon find out that some Wizarding families are better than others, Longbottom.  You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.’ He held out his hand to shake Neville's, but Neville didn’t take it.

  ‘Th-that was really mean what you said to Hermione!  I ... I-I don’t want to be friends with somebody like you!’ Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks.

  ‘I’d be careful if I were you, Longbottom,’ he said slowly. ‘Unless you’re a bit politer you’ll go the same way as your parents. They didn’t know what was good for them either. You hang around riff-raff like the Weasleys and muggleborn scum and it’ll rub off on you.’ Ron’s face was now as red as his hair as he said,

  ‘Say that again.’

  ‘Oh, you’re going to fight us, are you?’ Malfoy sneered. 

  ‘Unless you leave now.’ said Harry, a lot more bravely than he felt because Crabbe and Goyle were a lot bigger than him, Ron or Neville.

  ‘But we don’t feel like leaving, do we boys?  It seems there’s some riff-raff here that needs to be put in its place.’ Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles threateningly, but Harry’s eyes were drawn suddenly to Goyle’s shoulder, where there sat a fat grey rat.

‘Scabbers?’ said Harry.

‘What –’ Ron said, but his voice was cut off because Goyle had suddenly let out a horrible yell.  Scabbers, it seemed, had bitten Goyle's ear with his sharp little teeth.  Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle flailed about madly and tried to wrench the rodent off of his ear with his thick hands.  When Scabbers finally flew off and hit one of the compartment doors, all three boys turned tail and ran for it, as though they thought there were more rats in the corridor, or perhaps they heard footsteps, because a second later, Hermione Granger had reappeared.  Her eyes were very red and puffy, and her bushy brown hair seemed to be even bushier than before.

  ‘What  _has_ been going on?’ she said in her usual bossy voice.  Ron picked Scabbers up by the tail (he was unconscious) and said,

  ‘Scabbers here bit Goyle’s ear and then they all ran for it.’

  ‘Oh.’ said Hermione, but she sounded rather pleased to hear that. ‘Well anyway, you three should probably change into your robes.  I’ve just been up the front to ask the driver and he says we’re nearly there.’

  ‘Okay.’ said Neville. ‘See you Harry, Ron.’

  ‘See you, Neville.’ said Harry.

  ‘Yeah, see you.’ said Ron.  Then the four of them parted ways as they walked to their compartments to change.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of your comments :) I've taken a renewed interest in this story and have begun writing it again :) so as long as reader interest persists then I will continue to post, and maybe I'll even eventually get to Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, because I always had a lot of ideas for the second book that I really liked, but of course I would have to write the first book first. So thank you very much for your interest and comments and Kudos :) and a special thanks to MagicS for being the first person to comment on and take interest in this story. If it weren't for you then I would have already given up on this story, so thank you very much :)


	8. Neville Longbottom: part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter totally and completely belongs to J.K.Rowling

  ‘See you Harry, Ron.’

  ‘See you, Neville.’ said Harry.

  ‘Yeah, see you.’ said Ron.  Then the four of them parted ways as they walked to their compartments to change.  As he took off his jacket and pulled on his robes, Harry peered out of the window, it was getting dark now.  He could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky.  The train did seem to be slowing down.  A voice then echoed though the train:

  ‘We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time.  Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.’ Harry’s stomach learched with nerves and his heart leapt with excitement, he could see that Ron looked pale under his freckles.  They were almost at Hogwarts!  The place that Harry had dreamed of his whole life! 

  He and Ron crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor.  The train slowly began to slow down and finally, stop.  People pushed and shoved their way through the horde of students towards the door and out onto a small dark platform.  Harry shivered in the cold night air as he spotted a bright lamp bobbing high above the heads of the throng of students.  Then, Harry heard a great booming voice that echoed throughout the platform say:

  ‘Firs’-years!  Firs’-years over here!  Come on now!’ holding the bobbing lamp was the largest man Harry had ever seen in his life.  Standing twice as tall as a normal, full grown man, and nearly five times as wide, the giant of a man also looked quite wild.  His face was hidden almost completely by a long, Shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but Harry could just make out the giant-man’s eyes, glinting like black beetles in the light of the lamp he held.

  ‘C’mon, follow me - anymore firs’-years?  Mind yer step now!  Firs’-years follow me!’ slipping and stumbling on the cold, wet platform; the first years followed the giant-man down what seemed to be a very dark, steep, narrow path.  There was silence among the young students, all except for Neville Longbottom, who sniffed sadly a few times, and Harry realized with a start, that they had never found his toad.  He went over to Neville and said comfortingly:

  ‘I’m sorry we didn't find your toad.  Who knows, maybe he’ll somehow find his way back.’

  ‘Thanks Harry.’ said the famous boy with a trembling smile. ‘Maybe...’ then there was silence once more, until the giant man said in his booming voice:

  ‘Yeh’ll get yer firs- sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec.  Jus’ round this bend here.’ There was a loud ‘Ooooooh!’ as the narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake.  Perched atop a high mountain on the other side of the lake was a vast castle that had many turrents and towers, it’s many windows sparkled in the dark, starry sky.  Greater and more extraordinarily magical than anything that Harry could have ever imagined, there was Hogwarts.  Harry’s enraptured mind was shocked back to reality at the sound of the giant-man’s voice.

  ‘No more’n four to boat!’ Harry looked to where he was pointing and saw a fleet of little boats, sitting in the water by the shore.  Harry, Neville, Ron and Hermione climbed into one of the boats.

  ‘Everyone in?’ shouted the giant-man, who had a boat all to himself as no one could possibly fit in with him. ‘Right then - FORWARD!’ and the fleet of little boats moved all at once, gliding almost abnormally smoothly across the black lake beneath them.  Everyone was silent as Harry returned to starring at the magnificent castle overhead.  It grew bigger and bigger as the little boats grew nearer to the cliff on which it stood.  

  ‘Heads down!’ yelled the giant-man as the first boats reached the cliff.  As they all bent their heads, the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy which hid the opening to a wide tunnel in the cliff.  The tunnel seemed to take them right underneath the castle itself, then they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they all clambered out of their boats to stand on the rocks and pebbles of the underground harbour.

  ‘Oy, Neville!  Isn’t this your toad?’ said the giant-man, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.  At the mention of Neville's name people began to whisper excitedly.

  ‘Trevor!’ cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands for the small toad. ‘Thanks Hagrid!’ Then the giant man, who was apparently named Hagrid, began to lead them up a passageway in the rock.  When Harry and Ron (who had been standing behind Harry) had made their way back to Neville, Harry said:

  ‘You know him?’ then he gestured to Hagrid.

  ‘Yeah.’ said Neville, who was smiling now that he had his toad back. ‘His name’s Rubeus Hagrid, he’s the Game Keeper here.  I’ve known him all my life, he was the one who took me from my parent's house when I was a baby and brought me to my Gran’s.’

  ‘Really?’ said Ron as he tried to keep the conversation on that night as they walked up a flight of stone steps.  They then crowded around the huge oak front door.

  ‘Everyone here?  Neville, you still got your toad?’ Then Hagrid raised his gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you MagicS and MSupernatural for your comments in the last chapter :) I really appreciate them and your support for this story :) it really means a lot to me :)
> 
> And this is the last part of chapter 2, the next chapter will be titled "The Sorting".


	9. The Sorting: part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter totally and completely belongs to J.K.Rowling

–CHAPTER THREE–

**_The Sorting_ **

Immediately, the door swung open, revealing a rather stern looking witch with black hair tied up in a tight bun, wearing an emerald green cloak.  Harry’s first thought was that this was not a witch to cross.

  “The firs’-years, Professor McGonagall.” said Hagrid.

  “Thank you Hagrid.  I will take them from here.” then she opened the oak doors wider to reveal the enormous Entrance Hall, it was big enough to fit a house inside.  The stone walls were lined with torches and the ceiling was too high to make out.  Facing them was a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors.  Professor McGonagall then began to lead the first years into an empty chamber.  As they walked, Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices coming from a large pair of double doors to the right.

  The nervous first years crowded in, standing much closer to each other than they usually would have done.  No one spoke a single word until Professor McGonagall broke the silence saying:

  “Welcome to Hogwarts.  The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses.  The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts.  You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.

  “The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin.  Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards.  While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points.  At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour.  I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

  “The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school.  I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” For the second time that day, Harry desperately tried to flatten his unruly hair. “I shall return when we are ready for you.  Please wait quietly.”

  As she left the chamber, Harry suddenly felt as though he had butterflies in his stomach.  The Sorting Ceremony ... What if the Sorting Hat (Which, according to Harry’s Father, was a magical talking hat which could see into your mind to determine which house you should belong to) put him in Slytherin?  Harry wasn’t dreading being put in that house for reasons of prejudice; no... The reason why Harry dreaded being put in that house was because the head of Slytherin house was none other than Severus Snape...

  Suddenly, there was an outburst of gasps from the others around him.  Harry turned around to see what they were all looking at; then he saw them.  About twenty pearly-white, slightly transparent ghosts had just streamed through the back wall.  They glided across the chamber, hardly even noticing the gasping first years bellow them.  They seemed to be arguing about something, what looked like a fat monk was saying, “Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second  chance–”

  “My dear Friar,” said a ghost, who was wearing a ruff and tights, “Haven’t we given Peeves all the chances he deserves?  He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?” the ghost said, suddenly realizing the presence of the first years.

  “We’re waiting to be sorted.” said Harry quite bravely, when no one else spoke up.  He had met a ghost before, his Father had invited over a ghost that he had met on his job one day, a few years back.  She was really quite nice, but mad as a hatter.

  “Wonderful!” said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. “I hope to see you in Hufflepuff!  My old house, you know!”

  “Move along now,” said the sharp voice of Professor McGonagall. “The Sorting ceremony's about to start.” One by one, the ghosts floated through the opposite wall.

  “Now form a line,” Professor McGonagall told the first years, “And follow me.” As Harry got in line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Ron and Neville behind him, the butterflies in Harry's stomach made him feel an odd sense of disembodiment.  Almost as though he was not Harry Potter, but merely a spectator watching his life.  This strange feeling continued as Professor McGonagall led them out of the empty chamber, back across the Entrance Hall and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

  Harry’s parents had told him about the wondrous Great Hall many times, and he had often taken to imagining what it would look like when he finally saw it, but even his most magnificent and fantastical daydream was paled by comparison to the real thing.  It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles which were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting.  These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets.  At the top of the Hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting.  Harry spotted Snape at once, his long, black, greasy hair hung like a dark curtain, surrounding his pale face.  When Snape’s cold, black eyes met his green ones, the nostrils of his overlarge, hooked nose flared angrily.  Harry quickly looked away and spotted Albus Dumbledore, he looked just like his picture on the chocolate frog card, but seeing him in person, there almost seemed to be a power emanating from the man that Harry could feel, even at this distance.  Although he looked very kind, Harry prayed that he was never on the old man’s bad side.

  “It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside.” came the almost know-it-all voice of Hermione Granger.  Harry looked up, and indeed, she was right.  It seemed as though was no ceiling at all and that the Great Hall simply opened up to the heavens. “I read about it in  _Hogwarts: A History_.” As Harry reluctantly looked down from the wondrous inky black sky, he saw Professor McGonagall silently place a four-legged stool in front of the first years.  On top of the stool she placed a pointed wizard’s hat that Harry assumed could only be the Sorting Hat.  However, Harry was surprised to see the shape that the  hat was in.  He had thought that its magical properties would have kept it in pristine condition throughout the years, but the old hat was instead patched, frayed and extremely dirty.  The entire Hall was quiet as they all waited with baited breath for the hat to speak.  There was complete silence, then, the hat twitched.  A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth and the hat began to sing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to MSupernatural for your comment in the last chapter :) and again to MagicS for being the on to first find interest in this story :) and thank you to Erainor, the third and latest person to comment on this story :) thank you all very much :) my passion for this story has been reignited and so long as people continue to be interested in this story, I will continue to post chapters :) So thank you very much :)
> 
> Please leave a comment bellow sharing what you thought of this story :)


	10. The Sorting: part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter totally and completely belongs to J.K.Rowling

The entire Hall was quiet as they all waited with baited breath for the hat to speak.  There was complete silence, then, the hat twitched.  A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth and the hat began to sing:

_"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I 'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring nerve and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those daring Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on!  Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I 'm a thinking cap!"_

  The whole Hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song.  It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

  “So we've just got to try on the Hat!” Ron whispered to Neville from behind him. “I’ll kill Fred; he was going on about wrestling a troll.” Harry snorted silently, he supposed that not all of their parents had been as informative about Hogwarts as Harry’s Father was, to their children, and the Muggleborns wouldn’t have a clue at all.  Except for Hermione Granger, who seemed to know  _everything_.  

  Professor McGonagall now stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment.

  “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah!” A blond girl with pigtails stumbled out of the line and put on the hat, which fell over her eyes, and sat down.  After a moment’s pause, the Hat called out,

  “HUFFLEPUFF!” The table on the right cheered as Hannah went to sit there.  The sorting continued as Bones, Susan also became a Hufflepuff and Boot, Terry became the first Ravenclaw as he sat down at the table to the left.  Then Brocklehurst, Mandy became a Ravenclaw, Brown, Lavender then became the first Gryffindor and went to sit at the far right table and Bulstrode, Millicent then became the first Slytherin and went to sit at the far left table.

  Harry didn’t hear many of the names that followed, the butterflies in his stomach had made themselves known once again.  He couldn’t concentrate on the houses the other students were sorted into.  All he could think about was that the line was gradually getting smaller and that soon it would be his turn to sit on that stool, try on that Hat and hope beyond hope that he wasn't put in the house that Snape was the head of.  He hated the boy already, Harry didn't know how the man would react if he was suddenly sorted into his own house ... but Harry thought that it would be clear that Snape wouldn't be very happy about it.  And nor would Harry.

  Harry began to pay attention to the Sorting once again as Finch-Fletchly, Justin became a Hufflepuff and Finnigan, Seamus, the sandy haired boy in front of Harry became a Gryffindor.  Harry noticed that for some people the Hat burst out with their house right away, but with others it would take quite a while.  Harry wondered how exactly the Hat decided which house the students should be in. What if a student had traits from each house?  How did the ancient Hat sort them then?

  “Granger, Hermione!” Professor McGonagall called, interrupting Harry’s inquiries.  The bushy haired girl nearly ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.  It took a few seconds for the Hat to decide, but then it shouted,

  “GRYFFINDOR!” Behind him, Ron groaned.  Harry got the impression that Ron was not very fond of Hermione.   _Probably because she’s so much of a know-it-all ..._  was Harry’s thought.

  “Longbottom, Neville!” the emerald cloaked Professor called.  The reaction was instantaneous.  Whispers broke out all through the hall like little hissing fires along each of the house tables.

  “ _Longbottom_ , did she say?”

  “ _The_  Neville Longbottom?” 

  Neville walked past Harry and started to make his way to the Hat, while looking around nervously at all the people whispering about him.  He was clearly uncomfortable with the attention his fame brought him.   When Neville looked back at him and Ron, they both gave him reassuring smiles, he smiled back and slowly made his way to the front, he tripped and fell once but then he finally made it.  The Hat dropped over Neville's eyes and the Hall which was abuzz with whispers slowly fell silent as the seconds ticked past.  

   _Why was it taking so long?_  Harry wondered.  It was taking Neville longer than anyone else to be sorted, but why?  Was it really such a hard decision for the Hat to make?  Then, Harry noticed that Neville was shaking his head and his lips were moving.  Harry was too far away to hear, but his Father had taught him to read lips.  He had told him it was a useful skill he had learned on his job.  

  “ _Please not Slytherin..._ ” Neville’s lips said.  Slytherin?  Harry was a bit taken aback at this.   He must have read his lips wrong.  He tried again.

  “ _Anything but Slytherin...  Please…  My Gran’ll kill me..._ ” said Neville’s now trembling lips.  Harry was sure that he had gotten it right this time, but what was the Sorting Hat thinking to want to put Neville into Slytherin?  Not that he was judging or anything, but Neville just didn’t seem like the Slytherin type ...  He didn't seem like the kind of person willing to risk everything for his own goals.  Harry just couldn’t understand why the Hat would even think for a second that _Neville Longbottom_ was Slytherin material!  It just didn't make any sense...

  Finally, after over five minutes of waiting (making Neville what Harry’s father had told him was called a Hatstall) the Sorting Hat announced:

  “GRYFFINDOR!” Harry smiled as he clapped with the Gryffindors, who cheered harder for Neville than any of the tables had for anybody else.  Harry knew that Neville was no Slytherin, but it shocked him a bit to hear that the boy was a Gryffindor.  Of all he’d seen of the Boy Who Lived, none of it was exceptionally brave.  He just seemed like any normal kid their age.  But again, who was he to judge?  Maybe he had some hidden courage in him somewhere.

  When the Hat had finally announced his house, Neville almost threw the hat off of his head.  He looked at it warily for a second, and then he went to sit at the Gryffindor table.  Perhaps Neville was as confused as Harry was, as to why the Hat would wish to put him in Slytherin.

  “Malfoy, Draco!” The pale, blond boy that Harry had met on the train swaggered up to the front proudly.    The Hat had hardly even touched the boy's head when it yelled

  “SLYTHERIN!” Malfoy wore an expression of pure triumph as he went over to sit at the Slytherin table with Crabbe and Goyle who had already been sorted into that house.  Harry looked around at the others.  There weren't many people left and McGonagall was getting closer and closer to the ‘P’s.  Harry was relieved to see that Ron looked nervous too.  He wasn’t the only one.  

  McGonagall had finally made it to the ‘P’s. 

  “Parkinson, Pansy!” she called.  As the Hat announced her:

  “SLYTHERIN!” Harry felt the butterflies in his stomach disappear.  But then, so did his stomach.  It felt like the whole thing had just dropped right out of him.  

  “Patil, Padma!”

  “RAVENCLAW!”

  “Patil, Pavarti!”

  “GRYFFINDOR!” After Perks, Sally-Anne was sorted, McGonagall called:

  “Potter, Harry!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to MSupernatural for commenting on the last chapter :) thank you for continued support for this story and your interesting comments and questions :)


	11. The Sorting: part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter totally and completely belongs to J.K.Rowling

  “Potter, Harry!” The strange sensation of being a spectator of his own life came back as Harry Potter walked slowly towards the front.  He sat down on the stool, with all eyes on him and the old Hat dropped over his eyes.  He waited a few seconds, staring at the inside of the Hat, then:

  “Hmm…”said a small voice in his ear, “Interesting, very interesting.  Plenty of courage, I see.  Not a bad mind, either.  And true loyalty to all who are close to you…  There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes… and a will stronger than any other I’ve seen today.  Quite an easy decision though.  It’s clear where you belong, it’s GRYFFINDOR!” the Hat shouted the last word to the entire Hall.  Harry smiled wildly as he took the Hat off his head and ran to sit at the Gryffindor table.  People patted him on the back and welcomed him to the house.  Including the ghost in the ruff he had seen earlier, but his touch was not quite as welcoming as it gave him the sudden horrible feeling that he had just been drenched in a tub of ice-water.

  Harry saw Neville and Hermione engaged in conversation.  Neville gave him a congratulatory smile and Hermione gave him what Harry thought was a small smile as well, but he couldn’t be sure as it was gone the second that it had appeared and she had turned back to Neville to continue telling him about the many boring facts that she had discovered since she found out that she was a witch.  Harry gave them a smile back.  Then Harry turned to look at the High Table again.  He spotted Snape who gave him his famous sneer that no one could do better than him.  Harry responded by narrowing his eyes at the pale, greasy man.  Snape then turned away from him and refused to look at him again.  Harry saw that there were only three people left to be sorted.  After Turpin, Lisa became a Ravenclaw, it was Ron’s turn.  Harry hoped that Ron would be in Gryffindor, not only because they would be in the same house, but because it was the house that Ron wanted.  

  Ron’s face was a pale green as the Hat fell over his eyes.  Harry crossed his fingers and a second later the Hat shouted:

  “GRYFFINDOR!” Harry clapped loudly with the rest of Gryffindor house as Ron walked past him and collapsed into a chair on Neville’s other side.  Ron and Hermione gave each other scathing looks as they each tried to get Neville's attention onto themselves.  Harry looked down at his plate.  He was a bit hurt that Ron had walked right passed him and sat next to Neville.  It seemed almost like ever since Ron had met Neville, he had completely forgotten about Harry!  Hadn't  _he_  been Ron’s friend first?  Harry shook that idea out of his head.  He was acting stupid.  They were all friends.  It wasn’t as though Ron was picking Neville over him  _on purpose_.  He probably wasn’t even aware that it had bothered Harry at all.  Harry looked back up at the front, while he had been acting stupid, the last first year had been sorted and Professor McGonagall had rolled up her scroll and was taking the Sorting Hat and the little stool away.  

  When she was gone, Dumbledore got to his feet with his arms opened wide, a beaming smile on his old, bearded face.

  “Welcome!” he said. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!  Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words.  And here they are:  Nitwit!  Blubber!  Oddment!  Tweak!  Thank you!” Everyone clapped and cheered as though the old man had just given a long speech.  Harry laughed; his parents had told him that Dumbledore had a sense of humor, they had been right.  Then, Harry looked down, suddenly; the previously empty golden dishes were piled with food.  It was more food than Harry had ever seen in his life.  There was roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, bacon, steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and, strangely, mint humbugs.

  Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything (except for the mint humbugs), his Mother had always told him to eat a lot whenever possible, and this was certainly a lot.  With this much food, Harry was sure to gain at least a few pounds.  

  “That does look good, said the ghost in the ruff as Harry was eating.  Harry remembered when his Father had brought home that ghost; she had become most upset when his Mother had absent-mindedly offered them all tea.  Ghosts couldn't eat anything, not that they needed to, but eating in itself was quite enjoyable and it had to be something they missed.

  “I’m sorry.” said Harry, who suddenly didn’t feel like eating another bite.  He thought that it would be rude to eat in front of someone who hadn't eaten in who knows how many years.

  “Don’t be, my dear boy.” the ghost said dismissively. “I haven’t eaten for nearly five hundred years … I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself?  Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service.  Resident ghost of Gryffindor tower.”

  “I’m Harry Pott-“ Harry began, but Ron, who had apparently been listening to the conversation, interrupted.

  I know who you are!” he said, "My brothers told me about you – you're Nearly Headless Nick!" The ghost bristled at this nickname.

  “I would  _prefer_  you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy–”

  “ _Nearly_  Headless?” interrupted Seamus Finnigan, the sandy-haired boy who had stood in front of Harry for the sorting. “How can you be  _nearly_  headless?” Sir Nicholas looked very annoyed at this question and replied irritably:

  “Like  _this_ ,” He then grabbed his left ear and pulled.  Suddenly, his whole head swung onto his left shoulder as if it was on a hinge, attached to his neck by less than an inch of ghostly skin.  Clearly, someone had tried to behead him, but had failed in that task.  Nick then flopped his head back in place, seeming pleased with the stunned looks on their faces.  He coughed and then he said, “So – new Gryffindors!  I hope you’re going to help us win the House Championship this year Gryffindor have never gone so long without winning.  Slytherin have got the cup six years in a row!  The Bloody Baron’s becoming almost unbearable – he’s the Slytherin ghost.” Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table and saw a ghost sitting there with a gaunt face, silvery-blood stained robes and had blank, staring eyes that Harry thought looked rather creepy.  He was sitting right next to Malfoy, who didn’t seem very pleased with the seating arrangements.

  “How did he get so covered in blood?” Seamus asked curiously.

  “I’ve never asked.” Sir Nicholas said delicately, clearly telling them not to ask either.  

  In a little while, when everyone had eaten their fill, the food faded from the plates, leaving them as sparklingly clean as before.  A moment later, deserts appeared.  There was blocks of ice-cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs, jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, rice pudding and many other sugary sweet things that Harry couldn’t put a name to at the moment.  As Harry was helping himself to a treacle tart, the conversation turned to families.  

  “I’m half and half,” said Seamus proudly. “Me Dad’s a Muggle.  Mam didn’t tell him she was a witch ‘til after they were married.  Bit of a nasty shock for him.” The others laughed.

  “Well, my family are all purebloods,” said Ron, "But we’re the biggest bunch of blood-traitors there are.  What with my Dad’s obsession with Muggles.  He even collects those ecklectic containers that Muggles use instead of magic.  Batties, I think they’re called.” The rest laughed.

  “It's electricity.” Harry supplied. “And those containers are called batteries.”

  “Oh, thanks Harry.” said Ron. “Yeah, so he even collects  _batteries_!” the others laughed again.

  “That’s great!  How about you, Harry?” Seamus asked, turning to Harry. “How’d you know that?  Are you Muggleborn?  Or half-blood, like me?”

  “Sort of.” said Harry. “My Dad’s Pureblood and my Mum’s Muggleborn.  My mum insists on having Muggle appliances in the house as well as magical.  She says they’re easier to use and educational.”

  “Oh, don’t be so modest!” said Ron. “Tell them who your parents  _are_!”

  "What does he mean?" asked Seamus. “Who’re your parents Harry?” Before Harry could answer, Ron did for him.

  “They’re James and Lily Potter!”

  “Really” said Seamus, “No way!  I didn't know they had a kid!”

  “Two, actually.” said Harry. “I have a little sister.” Then, Neville spoke up.

  “I've heard of them before.  My Gran said that your Dad is a really famous Auror and your Mum is a really skilled healer at St. Mungo’s, but nobody’d even really heard of them all that much until after You-Know-Who disappeared.”

  “Yeah.” said Harry. “My Dad inherited a lot of money from his parents when they died.  Enough money that we could have lived off of just that for our whole lives, but after Voldemort’s downfall–” they all gasped. “Sorry, after You-Know-Who’s downfall the Aurors as well as St. Mungo’s were short on Staff, so my parents volunteered to help.  Eventually, they were given permanent jobs there as they were so good at what they were doing.  I hadn’t really realized until today that they were really ‘famous’.” They all stared at Harry in shock.

  “So,” said Ron, positively flabbergasted. “Your parents didn't even have to do any of the normal extra schooling or exams needed for those jobs, they just got them because they volunteered and were good at it?”

  “Yeah.” said Harry. “I didn't know that you needed extra schooling for those jobs.”

  “Oh yeah.” said Ron. “Auror and Healer are two of the most sought after jobs, and also the ones that require the most skill, so the Ministry created tests that you have to take if you want to get those jobs.  It usually takes years.”

  “Wow.” said Harry. "That’s–”

  “Ouch!” Harry was interrupted by Neville's outburst of pain and clutching at his head.

  “What is it?” said Ron.

  “I-it’s nothing.” said Neville. “Who’s that teacher talking to the teacher in the turban?” Harry turned and saw a man in a large purple turban who was turned around, speaking to someone behind him.  And that someone behind him was Snape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wonderful thank you to MSupernatural for commenting once again in the last chapter, as well as to Ezra, the fourth person to comment on this story :) thank you both very much for your comments and I hope that you and others will comment again for this chapter. :)


	12. The Sorting: part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter totally and completely belongs to J.K.Rowling

“Ouch!” Harry was interrupted by Neville's outburst of pain and clutching at his head.

  “What is it?” said Ron.

  “I-it’s nothing.” said Neville. “Who’s that teacher talking to the teacher in the turban?” Harry turned and saw a man in a large purple turban who was turned around, speaking to someone behind him.  And that someone behind him was Snape.

  “That’s Sn- I mean Professor Snape.”

  “You know him?” Neville asked.

  “Yeah.” said Harry. “He’s a friend of my Mum’s, I don’t like him too much though.”

  “Why not?” said Ron.

  “Because he hates me.” Harry answered simply.

  “Why does he hate you if he’s friends with your Mum?” Seamus asked.  Harry sighed.

  “Because I look like my Dad.  He hates my Dad and he was in love with my Mum.  My Dad got the girl, so...”

  “That still doesn't mean he should hate you.” said Hermione, who was previously in a conversation with Percy the Prefect about school work.  

  “Who asked you to butt in?” Ron said viciously.

  “Well excuse me for making a valid point!” Hermione replied just as viciously.

  “She’s right.” said Harry. “He shouldn’t hate me, but he does, and to make it worse he absolutely adores my little sister because she looks like my Mum.”

  “That’s unfair!” said Seamus.

  “Yeah.” said Harry. “I’m really not looking forward to potions class with him.  He’ll probably fail me just for being alive.”

  “He can’t do that.” said Hermione. “He’d be sacked for that.”

  “Who said he’d get caught.” said Harry. “He’d just say that I was really bad at potions.”

  “It doesn’t matter, he can’t do that.” said Hermione firmly.  It was clear that it wasn’t open for discussion anymore.  Then suddenly, the desserts disappeared and Dumbledore got to his feet once again.  The whole Hall fell silent.

  “Ahem – just a few more words now we are all fed and watered.  I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.  First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils.  And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.” 

  Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.  Harry’s Father had told him stories of when him, Sirius and Remus had ventured, against the rules, into the forest and Harry figured he’d have to do that sometime.  Maybe he could ask the Red-headed twins to take him in there as they seemed so familiar with the place.  However maybe he would just go by himself in his new invisibility cloak as it was clear that the twins had been caught and Harry did  _not_  want to get caught.  His Mother would be furious if he broke the rules.  

  “I have also been asked by Filch to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.” Harry wondered to himself if he might one day have to break that rule too.  The prospect of it made him smile.  

  “Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term.  Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.”

  Harry groaned under his breath.  For some stupid reason, first years weren’t allowed to try out for Quidditch or even bring a broomstick to Hogwarts.  He really wanted to be on the team.  He was quite the flyer, if he did say so himself and he loved being up in the air, weightless as he directed the broom where to go.  Unlike his sister, who after one bad experience refused to ever get on a broom again.  But, more than anything, the reason why Harry wanted so badly to be on the team was because his Father had been on it when he was at school.  He had been a Chaser, though Harry had always fancied himself being a Keeper or a Seeker instead.

  “And finally,” continued Dumbledore. “I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.” A few people laughed, but not many.  Harry decided that he would eventually have to explore this third floor corridor.  Harry looked over at Percy who had given a distinct ‘Humph!’ Dumbledore probably hadn't told the prefects why the third floor corridor was out of bounds.  That made it seem even more exciting.

  “And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” Dumbledore then flicked his wand and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself snake-like into words.

  “Everyone pick their favourite tune,” said Dumbledore, “And off we go!”

  And the school bellowed:

“ _Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they’re bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we ’ve forgot,_

_Just do your best, we’ll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot._ ”

  Everyone finished singing at different times.  In the end, the only ones singing were the Weasley twins who were singing to a slow funeral march.  When they had ended, Dumbledore wiped a tear from his eye and said:

  “Ah, music, a magic beyond all we do here!  And now, bedtime.  Off you trot!” The Gryffindor first years followed Percy the Prefect through the crowd, out of The Great Hall and up the marble staircase.  Harry was very tired now and couldn’t wait to go to sleep.  His legs felt like they had heavy weights tied to them as he tried his best to keep up with the others, who, he was relieved to note, were looking very tired as well. As they walked, the people in the portraits around them whispered and pointed.  Harry wasn't at all surprised, Sirius had a couple of paintings that talked and spoke at his place, though none of them were exactly good company.  If it weren’t for the permanent sticking charm placed on them, Sirius would have gotten rid of them completely, instead he settled for placing very thick curtains around them. 

  They climbed staircase after staircase and Harry was just starting to wonder how much longer they would have to walk, when they suddenly halted.  Harry looked up to see the cause of the abrupt stop and saw that over a dozen walking sticks were floating in mid-air and when Percy tried to take a step farther, they started throwing themselves at him.

  “Peeves.” Percy whispered to the first-years. “A poltergeist.” If Harry wasn't so tired, he would have laughed.  

  His Father had told him about Peeves.  Unlike regular ghosts, instead of being pearly-white, Peeves was a little man with wildly coloured clothing, dark eyes and a wide mouth.  He was a spirit who wasn’t really a spirit, because essentially that’s what a poltergeist was, a spirit not of someone who has died, but that is created from pent up emotions.  In Peeves’ case, the emotion he was created from was the pent up emotions of the students and their need to cause trouble and break rules.  Peeves was a troublesome spirit that represented the students’ need for chaos and the only thing that could rein him in was his fear of the Bloody Baron.  He was the only one who could control Peeves.  Harry’s father had told him that Peeves, despite being created from the students’ need to break rules, he would tattle on them if they actually did, just so he could laugh at them when they got into trouble.  He, Sirius and Remus had many times gotten into trouble because of Peeves and they had all warned Harry to steer clear of him.

  After Percy threatened him with the Bloody Baron, he dropped the walking sticks on Neville’s head and flew away.  Then they continued walking until they reached the end of the corridor where there hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

  “Password?” she said.

  “ _Caput Draconis,_ ” said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall.  They all scrambled through it and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cosy, round room with squashy armchairs.  Percy then directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another.  At the top of a spiral staircase – they were obviously in one of the castle’s many towers – they finally found their beds: five four-posters hung with deep-red velvet curtains.  Their trunks had already been brought up.  Harry spotted Hootie in his cage at the end of his bed, he let him out of his cage and the owl flew out the window, Harry grinned at the sight.

  All of the boys quickly changed into their pajamas and crawled into bed.  Harry fell asleep before any of the others because as soon as his head hit the pillow he was out like a light.  That night he had pleasant dreams of eating treacle tart and then Dumbledore was running to tell him that he had become the Seeker and captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and then he was suddenly on the pitch, up in the air with Ron, Neville and strangely Hermione, cheering him on in the stands.  Then Snape got sacked for booing at him and Remus became his potions teacher instead.  When he woke up the next day, he laughed at how crazy his dream had been as he got dressed in his black school robes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to MagicS and MSupernatural for commenting on the last chapter :) it's your comments that keep me writing this story so it really means a lot to me :) thanks :)


	13. First Week: part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter totally and completely belongs to J.K.Rowling

–CHAPTER FOUR–

**_First Week_ **

Hogwarts was bigger than Harry could have ever imagined.  There were a hundred and forty-two staircases of all different sizes: wide, steeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that didn't always lead the same way on certain days of the week; some with vanishing steps that you had to remember to jump.  Then there were doors that sometimes wouldn't open unless you tickled them or asked politely and some that weren’t even doors at all, just walls pretending to be doors.  Everything always seemed to be moving and never in the same place as it was before, which made it very difficult for Harry to find his classes.  Although Sir Nicholas was always happy to point stray Gryffindors in the right direction, it wouldn’t help you at all if you ran into Filch or Peeves the Poltergeist, who were both guaranteed to ensure that you were late to class.  It was at times like this that Harry wished that Filch hadn’t confiscated the Marauders' Map, it could have been of great help to him in his quest to find his classes and avoid Peeves and Filch as well as Mrs. Norris, who was a scrawny, dust coloured cat with bulging, lamp-like eyes, that was owned by Filch.  Put even one toe out of line and she'd happily go and fetch her master to dole out a punishment.

  The classes themselves were no less as difficult as the quest to find them.  Every Wednesday at midnight, they had Astronomy class, which was taught by Professor Sinistra, a skinny, dark skinned witch with long brown hair, who seemed almost emotionless.  There they studied the night sky through telescopes and learnt the names of all the different stars and the movements of the planets.  This was rather hard, since there were so many of them and they all looked exactly the same. 

  Three times a week, they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle for Herbology, which was taught by a short, dumpy witch named Professor Sprout, who was the Head of Hufflepuff house.  There they learned how care for strange and magical plants and fungi, and they learned their uses in the magical world.  Strangely, Neville Longbottom – who did terribly in every other class – seemed to have a gift for Herbology.

  History of Magic was the only class that was taught by a ghost.  Harry had heard a rumour that Professor Binns had been very old when he had fallen asleep in front of the staffroom fire and had gotten up the next morning to go teach as usual – while leaving his body behind!  Professor Binns taught in such a boring, drone of voice that everyone in the class had to fight to keep awake while they wrote down notes.  And Harry was quite certain that if History of Magic was taught by _anyone_ else, it would have been extremely fascinating, but taught by  _him_  it was the most boring thing he'd ever heard.  But Harry assumed that he wouldn't be retiring anytime soon either, if his own _death_ hadn't even prevented him from teaching Harry didn't know what would.  

  Charms was taught by Professor Flitwick, the head of Ravenclaw House, who was a tiny little wizard that had to stand on a pile of books to even see over his desk.  On the first day, while he was taking the register, when he had reached Neville's name he had squeaked and then toppled out of sight.  Which then led to fits of laughter that continued for the majority of the class as many of them were constantly  re-enacting the professor's fall themselves throughout the class.

  Harry's first impression that Professor McGonagall was not someone to cross was quite right.  She was the Transfiguration Professor and the Head of Gryffindor house.  Strict and clever, the moment they sat down on the very first day she had said:

  "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts, anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back.  You have been warned." Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again.  They were all excited to get started but it soon became very clear that they wouldn't be changing furniture into animals for a very long time.  They were starting with just turning matches into needles, but even that was extremely difficult.  The only one who made any progress on the first day at all was Hermione Granger, who had somehow managed to make her match shiny and slightly pointed at the end.   

  Everyone was looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts, however, Professor Quirrell – the teacher in the purple turban that Harry had seen at the start of term banquet – was quite a disappointment.  In fact, he had turned out to be a bit of a joke.  He was quite pale, he always stuttered, was very nervous, one of his eyes was constantly twitching and he seemed rather unsure of himself, not that there was anything wrong with that, but it really prevented anyone from taking him seriously, especially when it seemed he didn't know how to control his own class or really understand anything that he was talking about outside of the text book.  His classroom always smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a Vampire he'd met in Romania that he was afraid would be coming back to get him any day now.  He had told them that he had received his turban from an African Prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie.  However, they weren't sure if they believed this story, for one thing when Seamus Finnegan had eagerly asked Quirrell how he had done it; the Professor had gone pink and then started talking about the weather.  For another thing, the turban had a funny smell that hung around it that none of them could quite place...

  Harry supposed that it was understandable that Professor Quirrell wasn't the greatest at the job, considering that he had only started that year.  The previous year, he had taught Muggle Studies, but Dumbledore had, for some reason, decided to give him the Defense Against the Dark Arts job – or so Harry had been told by the Weasley twins, who came up to talk to him sometimes when they saw him sitting alone in the common room.  They would chat and Harry would ask questions about what Hogwarts had been like for them since they were in their third year and had apparently explored the entire castle – The year before the last, Professor Quirrell had apparently gone on a yearlong journey and that was when his stuttering and nervous tendencies had begun.  Apparently he had been normal before that – Fred and George told him they doubted that.  They had never met him the way that he used to be and couldn't believe that he was ever  _normal_.  

  Harry's Father had told him that the Defense Against the Dark Arts job was probably cursed.  Even when _he_ had been in school there wasn't a single teacher that could hold the position for more than a year.  Something always happened at the end of the year that would result in their resignation, sacking, disappearance or sometimes, death.  This is what had left the job open for Quirrell.  Though, Harry wondered why Dumbledore would give him a cursed job.  Maybe he couldn't find anyone else and believed that Quirrell's apparent adventures with the Dark Arts would be enough for him to fill the post for a year.  But still, why would Dumbledore give one of his staff a cursed job?  It was as though he wanted him gone for some reason.  Maybe Dumbledore believed that the man was a wreck and needed some time off to find himself again, but he didn't want to go, so Dumbledore had decided to take drastic measures to insure that he didn't teach the next year.  But if that was the case, Dumbledore was taking an enormous risk on this man's life, as some of the previous teachers had been grievously injured or disappeared or even died.  But this was just speculation; it could be something else entirely, so Harry didn't feel that it was important enough to ask the Headmaster about.  It would probably only bother him.

  Despite this, Harry enjoyed his classes, and he hadn't had Potions yet (he had double potions on Friday) so he felt that his first week, in terms of classes, had gone fairly well.  But it was only in terms of classes.  Outside of classes, Harry felt very lonely.  It wasn't as though he didn't have any friends, no, it was more like the friends that he thought he had, would rather spend time with other people so he was often alone.  

  Harry had thought that maybe Ron could be his friend, perhaps even his best friend, but it was soon clear that Ron would much rather spend his time with Neville Longbottom, The-Boy-Who-Lived.  Once he had stopped questioning Neville about what was probably the worst day of his life that he couldn't even remember, Neville had warmed up to Ron a bit.  They had started spending a lot of time together after classes, but Neville also seemed to enjoy spending time with Hermione, and Ron didn't want to spend time with her at all.  So while Neville spent time with Hermione was the only times that Ron ever spent any time with Harry.  

  Harry enjoyed these few hours that Ron spent with him; he could pretend that he and Ron were best friends, or something close to it... But it was clear that Ron didn't feel the same way.  Whenever Ron was with him all he ever wanted to talk about was Neville and how good he was at Herbology, how funny it was that he seemed to have the absolute worst luck with everything else and how cool it was that he was a friend of someone so famous.  When Ron wasn't talking about Neville, he was complaining about Hermione and how much of a stuck up Know-It-All she was, how she was constantly saying some random fact to Neville, just to make himself look dumb in comparison, and how irritating it was that she was always around and he had to get stuck talking to Harry when he would much rather be with Neville.  Well, he never actually said that, but it was implied.   

  Harry felt as though he didn't have any real friends because everyone else already had friends and they had forgotten that he didn't.  He was the last to be picked, but they didn't even realize he was yet to be picked at all.  Ron and Neville were friends and Hermione was friends with Neville too.  Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan had become best friends and Harry thought that it would be rude to intrude on them; he would probably just bother them.  Harry considered for a moment that he could make friends with the other Gryffindor girls besides Hermione, but as he was about to approach them, he changed his mind.  They were gossiping and talking about boys and shoes, and Harry didn't feel that he could take part in that kind of a conversation or really be friends with them.  Even if he tried, he would probably just feel unwelcome and out of place.  So Harry just spent most of his time keeping up with his school work, after all, that's what school was for, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much to MSupernatural for commenting on the last chapter :) it really means a lot to me :)
> 
> Please leave a comment bellow sharing your thoughts or feelings about this chapter :)


	14. First Week: part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter totally and completely belongs to J.K.Rowling

  During the morning post on Friday, owls swooped in from all sides while they ate breakfast and brought mail to the students like every other morning.  Only this morning, Harry spotted his parent's owl as it swooped down to give him a letter.  It was from his Mother.  She had told him that she would be writing every week to see how he was doing.  He had been dreading this; he didn't know what he should write.  How much of what had happened, did he want his mother to know?  Harry decided to save that for later.  He would think about it after.  As he sent his parent's owl away and slipped the letter into his pocket, he spotted Neville, Ron and Hermione.  They were late again, but that was most likely because it seemed that Neville was leading the way.  Ron and Hermione were fighting behind him and Neville didn't have a very good sense of direction.

  "What do we have today?" Neville asked Ron, interrupting his and Hermione's bickering as they sat down a few seats to Harry's left.  With Ron on Neville's right side and Hermione on his left.

 "Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ron said, turning his attention to Neville, "Snape's head of Slytherin house.  They say he favors them - we'll be able to see if that's true." Neville groaned.

  "I wish McGonagall favoured us.  She gave us a whole pile of homework yesterday and I've barely gotten started on it!" Harry mentally chuckled to himself.  He'd been grateful for the 'pile of homework' Professor McGonagall had assigned; he was able to keep busy last night and not have to think about his lack of friends.  He had already finished it all.  

  "Really?" Hermione said from Neville's other side, " _I_ _'m_ already finished all of my homework.  I could help you if you'd like.  But just a bit, you need to learn these things yourself."

  "Really?  Thanks!" Neville said.  Hermione smiled.                                                

  "Hey!" Ron said "I was talking to him first, so sod off will you?!"

  "I'm sorry;  _I_  was just trying to help." Hermione said with her nose in the air. "Like a  _good_  friend.  You're only Neville's friend because he's famous!" Harry couldn't help but silently agree with her.  

  "That's not true!" Ron said indignantly, but Harry could see his ears turning pink.  Clearly, she was right.  

  "Liar." she said and Ron looked like he was about ready to explode with another insult when she got up and said, "I'm heading to class now.  Neville, you're free to join me, unless you'd rather stay here with  _him_." Harry looked at Neville, he seemed torn.  He clearly didn't want to have choose one of his friends over the other.  Harry didn't want to hear what either of them would say when Neville finally chose, so he decided to help out.  He stood up, walked over to them and said,

  "Hey Neville, I think you might have forgotten something in the dormitory this morning.  I could help you find your way back to get it if you'd like.  I have something I have to drop off there anyways." Harry knew that this would be believable because Neville often forgot things and if he were to go back, he would indeed need a guide.

  "Oh, no I-" Neville began, but Harry stared pointedly at him and it seemed he understood, because then he said. "Oh, yeah, I-I did.  Thanks Harry." then he stood up and started to follow Harry out of the Great Hall.

  "I could come with you!" Ron called after them.  Neville looked lost again, so Harry turned around and said.

  "No, it's alright.  I'll take him there.  The two of you just head on to class.  We'll see you there in a bit!" then he turned back around and started leading Neville towards the Gryffindor common room.  He was being honest when he said he had something he wanted to drop off; the letter from his Mum.

  While they were climbing up the stairs, Neville said,

  "Thanks for that Harry.  I really hate it when they make me choose like that, 'cause then no matter who I choose, one of them will get mad at me." Harry laughed.

  "Yeah, I figured that."

  "I just wish they wouldn't fight all the time," Neville said sadly, "I mean, they're both my friends, so I want them to be friends with each other too.  But they just can't seem to get along."

  "It's just because they're so different." Harry said, having no friends to hang out with, Harry had sort of become a silent observer.  In fact, he might even know his classmates better than their friends did! "Hermione is very uptight about the rules and schoolwork and enjoys learning and exercising her mind.  While Ron is very relaxed and prefers to slack off and have a bit of fun.  They're just not very similar and have differing opinions."

  "So what would you suppose I do?" Neville asked.  Harry thought about it for a moment while they walked up to the painting of the Fat Lady.  He said the password and ran to the boy's dormitory.  Harry tucked his letter underneath his pillow and then ran back out to meet Neville.  He thought about it for a few more seconds while he walked and then he said.

  "You should find something that they would both enjoy doing.  Something that's fun and exercises your mind at the same time."

  "Like what?" Neville asked curiously.

  "Er... like… like... like word puzzles or... Chess!  Yeah, that's good!  Chess, it's fun and it exercises your mind.  Get them to play a couple of games of chess.  They'll bond, trust me." 

  "Alright, if you say so Harry…" The two boys made their way down to the dungeons where Potions class was located.  They walked into one of the dungeons and Neville sat down in between Ron and Hermione, who were sitting as far apart from each other as they could at one of the three person tables, not facing each other.  Harry sat at the table next to them that only had Seamus and Dean at it.  The dungeons were much colder than the rest of the castle was and would have been creepy enough, even without the jars of pickled animal bits that lined the walls. 

  Like Flitwick, Snape began the class by taking the register and, like Flitwick; he paused at Neville's name.  Only he didn't squeal and fall over, instead, he said softly,

  "Ah, yes, Neville Longbottom.  Our new –  _celebrity_." Neville looked down and blushed while Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands.  Snape continued to take the register and didn't pause again until he reached Harry's name. "Harry Potter.  I expect you to refrain from acting foolishly, like your Father, while you are in my class." The whole class waited with baited breath to hear how Harry would reply to that obvious taunt.

  "Of course," Harry said simply. "By the way, Mum says 'hi'." the class chuckled and giggled into their hands.

  "That is very kind of her, Potter.  Now –"

  "Do you want me to say anything back to her,  _Sir_." Harry emphasized the 'Sir', he was used to just  calling him Snape or, behind his back, that greasy old git.

  "You do not have to tell her anything, Mr. Potter.  If I wanted to say anything to her, I would say it myself.  Now, as I was sayi –"

  "Are you sure you don't want me to tell her anything,  _Sir_?  I'm going to be writing to her tonight and I'm sure she’d  _love_  to hear from you." The class was now barely containing itself from exploding into bursts of laughter at the look on Snape’s face. 

  "Fine then, you may give your Mother my greetings.  And if you interrupt my class again, Potter, I’ll be forced to take points.  Is that clear?"

  "Crystal." Harry said with a smile on his face.  As Snape went back to the register, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Seamus and Dean were all staring at him.  Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville with amusement and admiration, and Hermione with disbelief and annoyance.

  When Snape had finished calling the names, he looked up at the class with piercing black eyes that were cold and looked like tunnels that continued on forever. 

  "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art that is potion making," he began, his voice no more than a whisper, but they caught every word.  Snape, like McGonagall, seemed to have the gift of keeping a class silent without effort.  Unlike Quirrell and Flitwick, who had no such gift, "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic.  I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

  Ron and Neville looked at each other with raised eyebrows and Neville looked a bit scared.  While Hermione was on the edge of her seat as if desperate to start proving that she wasn’t a dunderhead.  Harry felt the need to prove to Snape that he wasn’t a dunderhead either, like the man clearly expected him to be.  In his spare time (which he’d had a lot of, of late) he’d read and reread all of his textbooks, it was all very fascinating.  Also, his mother had often let him help her while she made potions and he had even attempted a few himself, over the years.  He was certainly not a dunderhead, in fact, he was pretty-

  “Potter!” said Snape suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again to MSupernatural for commenting on the last chapter :) as well as davidwv, thank you both very much :)
> 
> Please leave a comment below giving your thoughts, feelings or questions about this chapter :) I'd especially love to hear what you think of Snape :) And Harry's cheek to him :) As Harry's known him for nearly all his life, he's much more comfortable arguing with him. Thank you very much for your support for this story :)


	15. First Week: part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter totally and completely belongs to J.K.Rowling

  “Potter!” said Snape suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

  “You would get the Draught of Death, an extremely powerful sleeping potion.” Harry answered immediately as Hermione’s hand shot into the air and then sunk back down once he’d answered.  Snape was clearly trying to trip him up and make him look like an idiot.  Maybe as revenge for making the class laugh at him earlier…  But no matter the reason, Harry was not going to look like an idiot.  He could answer any question Snape threw at him.

  “Hmm, let’s try another one.  Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?” Hermione’s hand shot into the air once again.

  “In a goat’s stomach.” Harry answered; his Mum had a few of those lying around the house, just in case.  Then Harry decided to expand on his answer, just to prove that he knew what he was talking about and to make Snape look worse. “A bezoar is a stone that you find in a goats stomach that will save you from most poisons.” The class looked impressed and Snape looked furious.  His plan to humiliate Harry wasn’t working.

  “Very good, Mr. Potter, but tell me now what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?” At this question, Hermione stood up, stretching her hand toward the ceiling.  Harry had to think about this for a second.  He was very familiar with wolfsbane; Remus had to take a potion made from it at every full moon so that he could retain his mind even while in his wolf body.  But Harry was pretty sure that monkshood was the same thing…

  “That’s a trick question, Professor.” Harry said at last. “Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same thing and you know that.” then Harry remembered something else that he’s read in  _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ just recently. “It can also be called aconite.”

  The entire class was speechless, clearly not many, if any of them, knew those answers, even though they were all in their text books.  It seemed as though the only other person who knew, was Hermione, who now sat down looking very disappointed that she hadn’t been asked any questions.

  Seeing that he wasn’t going to win, Snape set them to work, putting them all into pairs; Harry working with Ron, Neville working with Seamus next to them, Dean with Pavarti Patil a few tables down and Hermione working across the room with Lavender Brown.  Then Snape told them that they had to make a simple potion to cure boils.  Harry had never made this potion before, but looking at the instructions, it seemed quite easy.

  Snape swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like.  Harry and Ron were doing fairly well on their potion and seemed to be ahead of everyone else around them, this was mostly due to Harry who had experience with weighing and crushing potions ingredients and adding them at precisely the right time.  Harry knew from experience that if you did anything wrong it could have disastrous side-effects, and with just that thought in mind, he took to watching Neville and Seamus occasionally to make sure they didn’t make a mistake and possibly hurt themselves.  Neville was very careless and didn't seem very confident in what he was doing, this worried Harry.  Just a few minutes later, Harry's fears were proved to be right.        

  “Stop!” Harry whispered to Neville just as he was about to add the porcupine quills to his and Seamus’ potion. “You’re supposed to take it off the fire first.” Neville thanked Harry as he did just that.  Harry had to stop Neville when he was about to make a mistake quite a few more times before the lesson was over.  By the end of it, there were only three potions that were made perfectly: Harry and Ron's, Hermione and Lavender Brown's, and Malfoy and Blaise Zabini's.  Neville and Seamus' was made correctly, but their stirring technique and timing could use a little work.

  After the lesson, Harry went back to the common room, since they had Friday afternoons off.  Having nothing else to do, Harry got started on his homework.  By the time the common room had started to fill up with the older students, Harry had finished all of his homework.  He hadn't meant for that to happen, though...  Now he would have nothing to do all weekend.  

  Harry went to his dormitory and threw himself, face-down, onto his bed.  All weekend, he would have nothing to do but think about the fact that he had no friends.  He supposed that he could go to the teachers and ask them for more homework, but they would probably ask questions he didn't want to answer.  He didn't want anyone to know how stupid he was being.  It's not like he was being bullied.  No one was calling him names or hurting him or anything of the sort, they would just rather spend time with other people.  And it wasn't as if they were doing it on purpose, they probably didn't even realise that Harry didn't have friends.  After all, they had friends and this was a big school, they probably just assumed that everyone had friends, just like them.  It wouldn't even occur to them that Harry felt lonely and didn't have any friends.

  Harry felt tears prick his eyes at these thoughts, but he blinked them back.  He was being stupid; this was nothing to cry over.  It would be okay to cry if he was being hurt or if he was called names or if people were purposely ignoring him, but none of these things were happening, so what was he crying about?  He was acting like a baby, getting all worked up over nothing.  School wasn't for friends, it was to work and to get an education so that he would know how to do magic and one day get a job in the Wizarding world.  Friends weren't all that important.  In fact, Harry was sure that if he had friends, he wouldn't be as caught up in his studies as he was.  It was better to not have friends.  Right? 

  Harry felt suddenly very tired at these thoughts and his bed was very comfortable.  Despite it being only five o'clock, Harry decided to go to sleep.  Maybe his dreams would be a little happier than how he felt right now ...  Without even getting changed out of his robes, Harry pulled up his sheets, wrapped his arms around his pillow and began to drift into sleep...

_Wait._   Harry's consciousness interrupted his sleep only moments later.   _What's that under my pillow?_   Harry could feel what felt like an envelope brushing up against his arm underneath the pillow.  He wondered why he would have an envelope underneath his pillow, and then he remembered.

  “Mum’s letter!” he said aloud as he whipped off his sheets and pulled out the envelope.  He had completely forgotten about it and if he didn’t write back to her, then she would think something was wrong.  And when Harry’s Mum thought something was wrong, she tended to overreact.  

_She’d probably send me a_ Howler _tomorrow morning if I don't write her back!_  Harry thought horridly. A Howler was a letter that, once you opened it, would scream out what the letter said in the writer's voice.  And if you didn't open it, then it would explode and scream out the letter’s contents anyway.  Harry shuddered a bit and then opened the envelope and took out the letter inside.  

_Dear Harry,_ it said.

_I'm writing to you just like I said I would.  I want you to write back to me telling me all about your first week.  What house are you in?  How are your classes?  Are you keeping up at school, or are you slacking off and falling behind?  How are your teachers?  Do you like them, hate them, think they're absolutely boring?  Have you made any new friends?  Have you made any enemies?  Are you homesick at all?  How's Severus?  I hope you two haven’t gotten into any fights, and you better tell me, because I'll be asking him too, very soon.  Tell me everything about your first week at Hogwarts, I know you've been looking forward to it for a very long time, so tell me, was it as amazing as you were expecting it to be?_

_Love, Mum_

_P.S. Your Father, Sirius and Remus all say ‘hi’ and your sister told me to write something too, but it wasn't ‘hi’, and I'm not writing it because it wasn't very nice.  But don't worry, I gave her extra chores as a punishment._

  Harry smiled.  It was so like his Mum to ask for all the facts to make sure he wouldn’t leave anything out.  Suddenly not feeling tired at all; he went to his trunk and quickly pulled out a piece of parchment, and a quill and ink.  He thought for a moment on what he would say, and then he dipped his quill in the ink and began to write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter is so late. Real life just got in the way a little bit and I forgot to update. But anyway, thank you to MSupernatural for commenting in the last chapter :) I always appreciate your comments :)


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